


To Boldly Stay on Schedule and Never Deviate. Ever.

by ReiverWrites



Series: MI6: The Coffee Shop [1]
Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, AU, Coffee Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:11:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReiverWrites/pseuds/ReiverWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way to Q's heart is through his scrabble mug. Or Star Trek references. Those work too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Boldly Stay on Schedule and Never Deviate. Ever.

Q hates coffee shops. Seriously, he does.

It’s not just his inherent love for tea or the fact that he has to pay at least a good two pounds for some boiled water but he finds that most people who are in those establishments are straight up pricks.

Honestly Q likes his tea in a very specific way and coffee shops just don’t know that way but sometimes there are too many blocks between work and home and sometimes too may hours, and when he thinks about the mileage until his next cuppa his feet take it upon themselves to shorten that distance and lead him to the nearest shop.

There is one in particular that Q has taken a liking to, MI6, where the service is friendly and the prices are a little lower and you can request leaves instead of the awful pouches.

So when Q finds himself particularly tired after work one day he drags himself over to MI6 for a decent cuppa to get him home in one piece. But, as seemingly always, the city is raining, like London likes to do, and so the warmth of the coffee shop is more than appreciated when he enters. There’s an older man behind the counter that he’s never seen before (not that he knows everyone here, but he’s good with faces, and this one he knows he’s never seen), and when he smiles Q can tell that it’s all charm but it makes warmth shoot through his skin, under where the rain had leeched its cold.

“Earl Grey.” He says when he reaches the counter, placing his scrabble mug down, and fishing around in his coat for his wallet.

The man says nothing and when Q looks up from his search finds that he’s still sprawled over the counter looking at straight at him.

“Tea.” He adds, in case the man is new and has never had the opportunity to leave his house. Ever.

Q tips his head to look over his glasses at the man. “Hot.”

The man laughs, pushing himself away from the counter, grabbing some tealeaves and the mug Q had placed on the counter. He didn’t know they’d do that. Q shrugs slightly to himself and goes back to the hunt for his wallet.

He’s just pulling a five pound note out when mister charisma comes back with his mug, “Made it so.”

Q can almost feel his heart skip a beat, and he knows that being unable to stop oneself from staring at the man fishing out his change from the register is stupid but his body doesn’t seem to mind. And when the barista pushes the change into Q’s hand, he doesn’t even look, just drops it into the tip jar and takes his drink.

“Cheers.” Q murmurs absently, stumbling back out onto the streets on autopilot. It isn’t until he’s hailed a cab three blocks down and taken his first sip that he realizes that he never took any sugar or milk.

He glances back down the street from the rear window, his mind finally running to catch up with the events, and takes another sip of his pure tea. It’s odd, having it without his usual fixings, but not necessarily bad.

But, then again, he settles into his seat properly and watches as the rain cleanses the city and marks tracks down the window, it could be the Star Trek reference talking.


End file.
